


Beneath the Branches

by idoltina



Series: Prompt Fills: Once Upon a Time [1]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, Missing Year (Once Upon a Time)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-13
Updated: 2016-05-13
Packaged: 2018-06-08 05:45:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6841378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/idoltina/pseuds/idoltina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt fill for <b>outlaw queen + tree</b>. Missing Year. After the royals return from their visit to the Dark Forest in search of Glinda, Robin seeks out the Charmings in an effort to discover what can be done to defeat Zelena. Instead, he stumbles upon the Queen alone at her apple tree and gets more than he bargained for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Beneath the Branches

He stumbles upon her after her return from the Dark Forest, alone in one of the palace courtyards staring up at an apple tree. He knows she’s spent a fair amount of time here in the last year, knows it’s a place of quiet solitude for her. How he knows this is not a memory he likes to revist -- he still bears the scars of that encounter -- but the lesson had been learned far and wide.

Do not bother the Queen when she’s alone at the apple tree.

It’s advice Robin heeds now when he spots her. He’s about to turn on his heel and leave her be -- he figures he can get information about their journey from one of the Charmings -- when he hears it.

Regina is crying.

It’s a sound he’s not heard in nearly a year -- the quiet sniffle, the shaky inhale of breath -- and it’s enough to give him pause. The last time he remembers her crying was during their first escapade into the castle, when she’d nearly put herself under a sleeping curse. Hearing it -- knowing that she’s crying -- brings a chill to Robin’s bones. He’s scared for her; he’s been scared for her the whole year.

He thinks that’s why she hates him so openly.

It’s that -- her acidic, abrasive treatment of him -- that conflicts with the chill in his bones, with the desire he has to make sure she holds on -- to stay awake.

He may be a little in love with her.

She’s crying and he knows her pain and she hates him and he’s a little bit in love with her and there’s a box on the stone surrounding the tree -- ingredients for a potion, he thinks .

No.

He’s moving forward before he can really think about it. Thankfully, his mind manages to supply him with reasonable words as his heart propels him forward. “Your Majesty?” he ventures tentatively. She starts a little at the sound of his voice, but much to his surprise, she actually turns around to face him.

For the first time in nearly a year, he sees Regina.

“I… came to inquire about your journey to the Dark Forest,” he says when it’s clear she’s not going to speak. “Did you manage to locate the Witch of the North?”

Her eyes narrow a little. “The Charmings did,” she says flatly.

He hesitates here, unsure how to proceed. “And was she.. helpful?”

 

Regina rolls her eyes and turns her attention back to the tree. It’s almost enough to make Robin smile. “As helpful as she could be, I suppose.” She pauses, here, shoulders slumping a little, and Robin can hear how her tone changes. “Zelena can only be defeated by a purveyor of the strongest light magic.” Another pause, this one much more weighted, and she glances at him over her shoulder. “Emma.”

“Emma?” he echoes, the name feeling vaguely familiar on his tongue. ”Snow and David’s daughter?” Regina inclines her head in affirmation, still not really meeting his eyes. “But she’s in the other realm, isn’t she? With your --” He cuts himself off before he says the word or name but he knows it’s too late; he can see the tension back in Regina’s shoulders, can hear her sharp intake of breath as she looks away. He rubs awkwardly at the back of his neck, his stomach twisting in knots. “There’s no hope then,” he says, the prospect dismal. “You can’t get to her.”

Regina is quiet for a long couple of moments, her fingers dancing delicately over the bottles in the box. “No,” she affirms. “I can’t.”

It takes him a moment to understand the implication. “But someone else can?”

“Snow,” she says, and there’s a slight tremor in her voice. “She can use means to get there that I no longer can.”

Robin’s brow knits in confused concentration for a moment. He knows what she means by the implication -- that it’s a method lost to her now -- but it takes him longer than he’s proud of to draw the conclusion. “The Dark Curse,” he breathes, heart sinking.

“Don’t tell your men,” she says sharply, glancing over her shoulder again. “We don’t want to incite a panic.”

Robin bites his lip in frustration, knowing full well that she’s right to make the request but wanting to protest against it all the same. He chooses another avenue to disagree with her on instead, needing her to be back in her own skin. “How is she even going to manage that?” he huffs. “That curse is extremely powerful. I can’t imagine she knows how to --” And then Robin’s voice tapers off as his eyes fall to the box of bottles and jars again. “You’re going to help.”

“She can’t do it without me,” Regina says, sounding resigned. There’s something there, in her tone -- annoyance, he thinks, but also a little reluctance.

She doesn’t want to do this.

“What’s the price?” he asks sharply, taking a step towards her. For the first time since his arrival, she actually meets his eyes and surveys him carefully. “I’m not as ignorant as you seem to think I am,” he says, unable to help himself. “I know all magic comes with a price. And this curse -- it’s dark, powerful. The cost must by heavy.”

There is such pain in her eyes as she looks at him, pain he hasn’t seen in a long time, pain he wants to soothe and no, no, no. She is not his to love, what is the _matter_ with him? “Yes,” she says thickly. “It is. It’s the heart of the thing you love most.”

Something inside of Robin twists painfully. He cannot imagine the Evil Queen able to pay such a price, but Regina? Regina at her most desperate, hurting and fueled by a need to destroy someone? Regina he can understand using darkness to crush a heart, because to Regina, love is pain.

How he wishes that weren’t the case.

It’s a selfish thought, careless and borne out of his stupid, inexplicable desire, but it’s one he cannot help having. And in his brief moment of self-loathing that follows, the implication is suddenly startlingly clear to him. “David,” he murmurs. “She’s going to sacrifice David.” Regina closes her eyes and works her jaw, and her feelings on the matter could not be plainer to Robin. She doesn’t want to do this, but she’s going to anyway. And it takes Robin a moment, in his confusion and ache and desire, to understand why. She wants to destroy Zelena, yes, but Regina has stuck by the Charmings’ sides all year long. Regina has done what she could to protect them -- to protect their child -- and it’s that simple fact that gives Robin the clarity he seeks. “You’ll get to see your son,” he says, and even in her selfishness, Robin finds himself drawn to her.

Regina opens her eyes. “And you should return to yours,” she says quietly. “The world will be disorienting enough for those who didn’t come over the first time. I can only imagine how frightening it will be for a child.” 

Robin inhales sharply at the thought, already itching to leave and find Roland, but he remembers what he’s been told about the other land, about Storybrooke. “Our memories,” he ventures, “will they --”

“You won’t lose them,” she reassures him. “The false identities, that was my choice last time. There’s no need for it now. Snow will make sure everyone is taken care of, I promise.”

Robin nods, relaxing only a little. He’s not sure how much time they have. By the looks of that box, he suspects they’re planning to cast the curse soon. And he really should return to camp and find Roland, but it’s not far -- still within the castle grounds. This -- this is probably the last time he’ll see her, Regina as a queen, Regina with this many walls up. This may be the last time he sees her in this much pain, and he doesn’t want to leave her alone.

He doesn’t want to leave her at all.

Robin takes another step forward, then another, much closer to her than before. “I know you’re not particularly fond of my assistance --”

“I never ask for it,” she counters, but there’s a slight spark in her eyes at the mention, corner of her mouth twitching.

“If you need help after we cross over,” he says bemusedly, fighting back a smile, “you can send Snow to find me -- since she seems to be more amenable to accepting help.”

“I think I’ll manage just fine,” she drawls, and it almost sounds warm. “I imagine you’ll need help adjusting, though.”

“Then perhaps I’ll merely have to find you,” he suggests.

“Send Roland,” she throws back. “He’s of lighter foot.” Robin laughs at that -- he cannot help it -- and he swears Regina almost smiles.

“Your Majesty,” he says, inclining his head slightly in parting. At her arched eyebrow, he adds, “I figure this is the last time I’ll be able to address you as such.”

She narrows her eyes, clearly trying to portray her annoyance, but she’s much softer around the edges right now. “Thief,” she offers in return, sharp and clear and with a touch of warmth. It’s every bit the goodbye she means it as, and with the box next to them and the curse waiting to be cast, some of the impending ache resurfaces in Robin’s eyes. Still, he does his best to push past it and smile, wanting her last memory of him here to be a better one.

He barely turns to leave when she calls after him. “Wait.” And he cannot help but be transfixed by her voice, obeys her command and turns back around to face her.

She has bewitched him, body and soul, and he resolutely does not care.

She hesitates for a moment, only moves when he arches his eyebrows at her in silent question and expectation. And she’s cautious even in that, careful as she approaches him and closes the distance between them. She meets his eyes only briefly before she leans in closer, eyes flicking down, and she brings up a hand to rest gently against his cheek.

When Regina kisses him, it feels like hope.

He’s fairly sure he stops breathing for half a moment as their lips press together, his heart thudding painfully in his chest. He’s a bit -- well, he’s a bit shell-shocked, to be honest. He’s never expected this of her, given their interactions in the last year, given how much pain he knows she’s in. His body -- his soul -- is screaming at him to react, to take from her the way he’s wanted to for so long, but he’s wary. He doesn’t want to push her away for good. It’s only when he feels her tense a little and start to pull away that he realizes his mistake. She wants this, wants him, and she’s pulling away because she thinks he doesn’t feel the same. So his heart propels his body into movement again before his mind can even process the thought, his hands moving of their own accord. One hand slips under her cloak to grip her waist and pull her flush against him (god, she feels incredible), the other moving to cradle the back of her head and toy with her long, luxurious locks. He opens his mouth slightly to deepen the kiss and breathes, encouraged when her free hand grips his arm tight.

Magic cannot be evil when it feels like this.

Regina is exceedingly, surprisingly gentle when she breaks the kiss. And for all that her swallow is audible and her eyes are full of fear when she pulls back a little, she doesn’t withdraw her touch, doesn’t pull of out of his embrace. Her lipstick is only a little smudged and she’s managed not to let the tears welling in her eyes fall, but it’s the most uncomposed, the most bare he’s ever seen her. “I hate you,” she says without heat, voice shaking.

He’s still too mesmerized by her to react properly -- to laugh or to be hurt or to come up with something equally acerbic to throw back at her. “Clearly,” he breathes, eyes falling to her lips. God, he wants to kiss her again. And then slowly, Regina moves the hand on his face so she can run her thumb across his bottom lip -- probably to remove traces of her lipstick, he thinks idly. Robin’s eyes are fluttering shut before he can think about it, and then Regina is gone.

He nearly falls over at her absence, startled into snapping his eyes open. He glances around bewilderedly, searching, but neither Regina nor her box of ingredients are anywhere to be found. She’s used magic to make herself disappear, and although Robin can’t bring himself to blame her, he misses her anyway.

His gaze lands upon the apple tree, and inspiration strikes.


End file.
